


I Am The Wolf Only Barely Contained

by Siobhan_Schuyler



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: AU, Breeding, F/M, Mating, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-06
Updated: 2014-10-06
Packaged: 2018-02-20 02:34:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2411786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siobhan_Schuyler/pseuds/Siobhan_Schuyler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She's aching for the wild, in a way she never let herself before. She's done quieting the wolf.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Am The Wolf Only Barely Contained

**Author's Note:**

> No spoilers or trigger warning, other than the werewolf thing being bestiality-adjacent I suppose. Title taken from the poem [Have You Considered That Maybe I Am Not Pleasant?](http://thenemeton.tumblr.com/post/74887803165/have-you-considered-that-maybe-i-am-not-pleasant).
> 
> * * *

Normally it would be your pack that helped you decide if it's time. They would help you get ready, they would drive you to the edge of the woods and give you their blessings and wish you luck in finding the best possible mate. 

Normally it would be your pack but Catherine hasn't had a pack since her father died and her mother took her away from the pack she'd grown up in and tried to raise her daughter as nothing but a human, doing everything she could to ignore the wolf part of Cath, and of herself. 

But at twenty-two and estranged from everything wolf, Catherine can't stand it anymore, and she makes the decision herself. There's a breeding moon coming up, so she prepares herself for it. Grooms herself - no artificial scents, no harsh chemicals, fewer processed foods and more meat, for the weeks leading up. She books the day off work, and the few days afterwards. She thinks she wants to quit her job maybe, if she finds a mate. Move inland, where there's space to run. Get a day job there, so she can have her nights. She wants pups and pack and to not wait tables in Waikiki anymore. She's aching for the wild, in a way she never let herself before. She's done quieting the wolf. She wants to let it run free and never tether it again. 

The day of the breeding moon, she doesn't shower, keeps her own scent. She sleeps late, then spends the afternoon in bed looking at the dancing shadows on her ceiling, waiting for the day to move into the evening. When it does, she goes and packs her truck with what few necessities she needs: a change of clothes, some bandages, bottled water, meat for after. She drives her truck away from the water and into the valley and parks it in the last lot at the end of a road, where it turns into a foot trail that keeps going deeper into the jungle. Few locals bother, in this area, and certainly fewer tourists.

It's nearly dark by then, and she waits in her truck until the last of the pink sunset eases behind the mountains. Once it's gone, she gets out of her truck and strips. She bundles her shorts and tank and panties and slippers togethers and stashes them under the passenger seat with her keys under the seat, hoping no one comes sniffing around. She left her wallet at home. 

She walks across the pebbles of the parking lot on bare feet until she hits grass. She stands at the edge of the forest in the pitch dark, nude, and listens. Her wolf scratches at her skin, squirming and whining, and she closes her eyes to listen beyond, listen for what she's here for. 

At the end of the trail, a mile or two past where it ends, is the breeding ground. Neutral territory where unmated wolves from different packs congregate on breeding moons to find a mate. Some go in their skin, some in their fur. Cath hasn't been in her fur for so long that she can't, not quite yet. 

She gives in to her wolf and starts walking, twigs cracking under her bare feet as she walks into the dark woods, letting her wolf guide her. It knows where to go and she lets it lead her. She's not afraid, alone in the dark, even though she thought she would be, so far away from the lights of downtown Honolulu. The feel of branches and grass and dirt and rocks and bark against her palms and the soles of her feet does something to her, nourishing, awakening. She smells, sniffs the air, breathes it in, lets it push her forward. 

Her pulse quickens when she catches the scent, twenty minutes after she goes off the end of the trail. It's not something she knew to scent for, but she knows without a doubt what it is she's smelling. She follows it past a dip in the ground, an outcropping of rock, and then - there they are. A group of wolves in a small clearing, paws in the dirt, all of them looking up when she comes forward. There are a few other wolves in their skin, but not many. They nod at her, recognizing their own, welcoming. 

Some wolves have mated already, sprawled in the dirt with another, curled around each other. There are a few pairs fucking, a mix of skin and fur - mostly fur. It's quiet, and heavy with the scent of mating and wolf. Cath shivers, her wolf restless, hungry. She's been so unfair to it, keeping it leashed and docile. It's not who it is, it's not who she is. She is it, and it wants her to remember. 

She walks further into the loose grouping and kneels in the dirt slowly, settling back on her heels. A few wolves in their fur pad over and she tilts her head to the side to bare her throat at them, submissive, knowing she's the newcomer here, in every way that counts. Her fists curl on her thighs as males scent her, their muzzles in her neck, armpits, nudging her thighs apart, sniffing where her ass rests on her feet. A reddish female nuzzles her side and Cath raises a hand to dig her fingers in her thick scruff, pulse tripping. 

Her wolf is howling to be let out but she needs to do this in her skin, if she can. She's had dreams that've been making her wake up drenched in sweat and pulsing; wants a mate to show her how to be a wolf again, from its most basic aspect. That's why she's here, and she's glad these wolves welcome her, don't question how she doesn't smell like any pack, any wolf, any thing.

They sniff her and paw at her and claws catch in her skin and that's okay, she lets them, her skin alive against the rough touches. She sits back and touches at any fur she can reach. White, grey, ruddy, dark. Some wolves defer to others, stepping away, watching from further back. Lower ranked wolves, letting the dominant ones have first dibs. Cath's cunt floods at the idea of being claimed by the most dominant of them, at being deemed worthy of such an honour, even as a new bitch. 

A tongue darts at her cunt and her breath hitches. She holds still for the grey wolf nosing at her, and the other one crowding her and snuffling her neck. Another one is pacing before her, waiting his turn. Cath can see his cock peeking out of its sheath, red against the pale grey of his coat. 

Shaking, she shifts to stand in the dirt on her hands and knees so they can scent her better. A nose presses to her cunt again, another to her asshole, while another wolf laps at her side, licking her skin, grooming her. She holds still, cunt throbbing, and she's a bitch for the taking like this, available to whoever has dibs. Her wolf will know if it's a match, just like her mate's will. She trusts her wolf the way her mother never did. The way her father would have. She trusts the wolves here, too, the way you trust pack.

The noses and tongues pull away suddenly, all at once, and she whines, the loss upsetting. The wolves are still there, close; she can feel them and see them and smell them, thick heavy arousal and scent of fur so heavy it's making her breath come out thick, laboured. They've all backed away though, and she's about to sit on her heels again when another nose presses up into her cunt, blunt, and she nearly whimpers when it snuffles, then licks her roughly. She stumbles forward on her hands and the nose pulls back. 

Cath sits back, shaken, to watch the large wolf circle her till he's in front of her. Healthy, strong. Dark, nearly black, with white at his muzzle and chest. The others watch, intent, but stay back. Cath's skin sings, like it's burning, and she watches the wolf watch her then pad closer to nose at her neck. She bares her throat to him, earning her a soft huffed growl and a tonguing, with an edge of teeth. She reaches for the thick fur, digs her fingers into it as the wolf smells her, crowding her, unhurried like he has nothing to worry about with the others. An alpha, and Cath wants to bare her belly to him or present, or both. It's not a feeling she ever got to have but she knows it nonetheless and it takes her breath away, leaves her dizzy with want.

With his body pressed up against her, she feels down his side, fingers pushing through thick coarse fur, until she touches his cock, half out of its sheath. Cath shifts closer to his chest and presses her palm to the sheath, feeling the knot under the thin furred skin and rubbing to coax it out.

She stops thinking then. She lays in the dirt next to him and lifts her leg, cunt bared to him like her stomach. He leans down and snuffles at her sex again, lapping and nosing. She holds herself like that for him as he lies down to eat her cunt, rolling to his side. She finds his cock again and mouths it too, sucking at the runny tip, the fluid sticky and generous and making her wolf whine, desperate. His knot has eased out of its sheath and she curls her fingers around it to guide his penis to her mouth, taking him in. 

He licks deep into her and she shudders, sucks his red dick and knows she's his, just like that. Her clit is throbbing against the hot wet tongue and his hips have started hitching into the heat of her mouth and she lets go, listening mindlessly to her wolf and getting her knees under her again. Presenting. 

The wolf scrambles to his feet and noses at her ass and cunt again, more agitated. He mounts her, thick paws grabbing her waist and heavy chest landing on her back. She feels his cock stab at her ass and cunt before finding its home and sinking into her, making her cry out. 

She claws at the dirt as he starts fucking her, sharp hitches of his hips into her, paws keeping her where he wants her. She pants, cunt sopping, and he claims her, breeds her in front of the others who weren't worthy of her. He knots her roughly and she whines, shudders around him as his thrusts get slow, shallower, and he pumps watery come into her. She feels some of it run down the back of her thighs. His chest lands on her back again, his nose at her throat; she bares it for him and he pushes his nose into it, panting too, growling softly, almost tenderly. 

Her mate. Whoever he is. She wants his pups and his den and his fur to shiver into, once he shows her. 

His paws hits the ground and she's just curled up under him like this, knotted, so small under him. She reaches between her legs and rubs at herself until she comes, clenching helplessly around his knot, pressing up onto it. He huffs and nuzzles her neck again, laps protectively at her pulse. 

She collapses onto her elbows when he slips out, messy and half soft, and she holds still as he licks her cunt clean, grooms her and cleans her and makes her his the rest of the way by taking care of her, like others aren't allowed to anymore. She's trembling and he noses at her until she curls up in the dirt, next to him. She feels him pad up behind her before curling up, fur pressed up against her back. 

As keyed up as she was earlier, she feels drained now, bred and safe, her wolf sated, at home. The last thing she remembers is his nose behind her ear, and the warm lap of his tongue. 

 

She squints at the sunlight coming through the trees and raises a hand to block it, groaning softly. The body against her shifts too and it feels different, though the same, in the ways that matter. 

"G'morning," a deep voice rasps, against her ear. His hand palms her belly, probably with pup already, and her cunt goes warm again, knowing his touch. 

"Morning," she replies, distracted, letting herself enjoy the touch for a moment longer before she sits up and turns to him as he does the same. 

He's handsome, tall and strong, muscles lean under inked skin. Dark close-cropped hair and scruff, some grey at his jaw and temples. His eyes crinkle when he smiles at her, goofy and sheepish. 

"I'm Steve," he says, palming her knee, like he can't help touching her. 

"Catherine."

"You're new at this," he says, and it's not a question, but his tone is kind. 

"My mother raised me away from this. But I needed to come back."

He smiles and it's blinding, making her chest tight, wanting. 

"I'm glad you did. You belong here."

"I know," Cath says, feeling it in her bones. "Will you show me how to get into my fur again?"

He nods, hand going up her arm. She tilts her head for his hand again and they smile at each other, sitting in the dirt in their skin together.


End file.
